


Better Than Oblivion

by awordnerd



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 12:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1470007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awordnerd/pseuds/awordnerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wiress and Beetee share a moment together on the night before they send their tributes into the 74th Hunger Games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than Oblivion

The eve of another Hunger Games was upon Panem, and the Capitol was ablaze with excitement as usual. Beetee thought it was all very ironic. The rainbow sea of Capitol citizens that flooded the streets below the Training Center was in the midst of a raucous celebration. People were laughing, eating, drinking, dancing, and enjoying the fact that they were alive. Beetee wondered how one could enjoy something such as life in the name of an event that represented the exact, grisly opposite.

This year's tributes from District Three were two brilliant young teenagers, but their chances of surviving even the first day of the Games were minimal. Like Wiress and himself, they weren't fighters, but the boy in particular had a knack for strategizing that Beetee hoped would buy him some time. Unfortunately, some of the rest of the tributes were going to be ruthless contenders—the Career pack was strong, and there was some unexpected competition coming from the outlying districts. The boy from Eleven (Thresh, Beetee remembered) was massive, and the girl from Twelve, Katniss Everdeen, (talk of her had been nonstop since the interviews) had managed to pull a training score that was practically unheard of. No, the future was not looking bright for Lucy and Terran of District Three.

Beetee rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses and sighed wearily, quickly growing tired of watching the never-ending party that was still carrying on outside. He had to be up early to see the kids off to the arena.

"Does it ever get easier?"

The voice, soft and yet entirely unexpected, nearly made Beetee jump out of his skin. He spun around to find Wiress standing a few feet behind him, the flashing lights from outside illuminating her short, dark hair and worry-ridden face.

"Wiress," he gasped, clutching his chest. "You nearly gave me heart failure."

"I'm sorry," Wiress replied, the tiniest hint of an amused grin flitting across her face before disappearing once more behind a mask of gloom. "Do you mind if I…" she gestured to the spot by the window next to Beetee.

"Not at all." Beetee moved over to make room for her and she sat down, hugging her knees to her chest. Neither of them said anything for a minute; they simply sat and stared down at the still-growing festivities below them.

"Does what ever get easier?" Beetee asked quietly, breaking the silence.

Wiress tore her eyes away from the street and focused on him. "Hmm?"

"When you came in here, you asked if it ever gets easier. What were you talking about?"

"Oh," Wiress sighed. "Well…this." She waved one hand in the general direction of the crowd of people. "Watching this, I suppose. And…watching the Games, mentoring the tributes…you've been doing it longer than I have. Does it ever get easier?"

Beetee didn't answer right away. He stared down once again at the party, which was still pulsing with vivacity. He quickly replayed the last few weeks in his head—the Reaping, where Lucy and Terran had quivered like leaves as they took their places on stage. Training, where they'd thrived mentally but struggled physically. The interviews, where they'd tried their hardest to make themselves likeable to a crowd of people that wasn't rooting for them. The routine had been identical every year since he'd been crowned victor of his own Games. Had it gotten easier?

"Do you want the nice answer or the real answer?" He asked Wiress, his voice laced with a hint of bitterness.

"The real answer," Wiress replied immediately.

"Watching this hasn't gotten easier." Beetee said softly, the bitterness gone from his voice. "Watching the Games is as gruesome an experience as it ever has been, and mentoring the tributes remains the worst part. Every single year, I promise myself that I'm not going to get attached to them. I try to hold them at arm's length. But it never matters how hard I try; it will never get easier to do what we have to do tomorrow morning." He paused momentarily. "But…I suppose there is one thing that's made it...not exactly easier, but perhaps more bearable."

Wiress tilted her head slightly to one side, like she did when she was trying to work out a particularly difficult part of a new invention. "What's that?"

Beetee looked at her and gave her a small but genuine smile. "Having you here."

The ghost of a smile that had appeared previously on Wiress' face found its way back, and it was really there this time. "You know…I was thinking the same thing."

Beetee cast his focus one more time on the street, still buzzing with life. He decided, right then and there, that the people of the Capitol could drink and dance and celebrate obliviously all they wanted. He wouldn't trade his spot here next to Wiress for all the oblivion in the world.


End file.
